Rule number one
by SarahSerendipidy-OliviaMaestro
Summary: Life at Camp Chiqutia was simple. As simple as it could get, considering it was the Apocalypse. They had constant routines, rules to follow. Rule number 1 to survive: don't do anything stupid. rated T for kiss/ whatever that follows. Dean/Cas, End!verse


Rule number one

Life at Camp Chiqutia was simple. As simple as it could get, considering it was the Apocalypse.

They had constant routines, rules to follow. Rule number 1 to survive:

1. don't do anything stupid

Really, that simple rule could cover everything.

"Don't feed the Croats" was another one Cas jokingly made one day, much to Dean's disapproval, especially since some stupid kid decided to write it on a dumb sign and plaster it across the fence.

Anyways, rule number 1 was easy. And yet, it was the rule they always broke the most. Arguably, anything and everything Dean and Castiel ever did was stupid. The things they did together were even worse.

Dean had always known that the whole thing was stupid - he shouldn't do it, and there were plenty of reasons why he shouldn't, and they were all very logical. It was a distraction, a flaw, a huge risk, not to mention a whole moral discussion in itself.

The only problem was, him and Cas were never really logical, were they?

The wooden planks creaked sadly as Dean stepped up to Castiel's little cabin. He could hear the girls inside and wondered who Cas had lured into his den of iniquity today.

The twilight surrounding the Camp was beautiful. The orange and red colours sprayed across the sky distracted Dean briefly. Suddenly the noise from the cabin interrupted his thoughts and three girls, and a guy, walked outside, tripping a bit over each other. One of the girls, Katie, winked at Dean, but he ignored her.

He'd some other ideas for tonight.

Dean stepped inside the cabin, looking around the room. The pillows weren't as messy as they usually were and the candles not as burnt. He walked to the table across the room and picked up a small bottle of pills, wondering if Cas had started a new dose since Dean removed his previous collection, or just stolen back the one he had taken.

"Come to steal my stuff again?" his gruff voice chuckled behind Dean. Shockingly close, since his warm breath ghosted across Dean's neck. The man ignored Castiel's question.

"Not as many today," he said instead, referring to Cas' "meeting". He could feel Cas' lip on his neck and tried to remain passive.

"Yeah... Sent 'em home early though," Cas mouthed across Dean's skin. Dean could feel him grinning. "Heard _you_ on my doorstep. Couldn't just leave you there."

Dean was about to retort back when Cas started nibbling at his ear, and his thoughts suddenly didn't matter and all that mattered was how Castiel's warm and gentle hands slipped beneath his shirt, and how they slowly travelled up Dean's stomach, slow and agonizing. The man's (or, ex-angel) body was flush against Dean's and he could feel his growing erection against the curve of his ass.

He moaned softly, rubbing backwards against Cas. The dark haired man groaned in response, suddenly gripping his slightly taller counterpart at the hips and turning him around, pushing him roughly against the wall besides the desk. Dean practically threw the bottle of pills he was still holding and fisted his hands in his angel's hair. Castiel smudged his face against Dean, not really kissing yet, just squishing their noses together and breathing him in like he was everything, like he needed him so much, like he only could breathe Dean, Dean and only Dean.

A sly smile split across his lips and Dean knew this could only end one way.

They looked at each other, still breathing heavily. Cas had this sweet, heavy smell about him, a smokey sense of course, and Dean lo- … liked it.

Cheeky bastard as the blue-eyed man was, he'd manage to slip his fingers under Dean's thigh holster, grabbing his thigh harshly beneath the straps.

"You know I love it when you wear that thing," he whispered across his leaders lips. "Makes me all hot and bothered."

Dean's cock twitched in response, and a breathy groan followed. He leaned his back against the wall, baring his neck to Cas, who continued to rub his hands under the holster, feeling Dean up.

Castiel left Dean's mouth and went down across his neck, sucking and nibbling, leaving a nice reminder who the man really belonged to. Dean, who still had his hands in Cas hair, pulled his head slightly back. Cas obliged, moving further down, kissing his way across Dean's chest. He reached his abdomen, placing a full open mouthed kiss below his navel and pinched playfully at his "pudgy midway".

Dean sneered in response, earning a chuckled "easy boy" from Cas.

The taller man grew annoyed and pressed off against the wall, pulling Cas up again and pushing him away. He grabbed him again by the hem of the shirt and pushed him into his humble bedroom, kept pushing him until the man stumbled onto the bed, laying half down.

Dean hovered over him, hands on both sides of his point of interest. Finally, giving in, he practically crashed down on Cas, crushing their lips together, and loosening up a bit afterwards. Cas moaned loudly against Dean's lips, his hot breath splayed across Dean's face. With closed eyes both, they rocked slightly forward, Dean lifting one of his legs upon the mattress to gain more balance and pushing harder against Cas. His forehead creased slightly, willing himself to be slightly gentler, even though that was certainly not what Castiel was aiming for.

He slipped his hand yet again under Dean's thigh holster, hiking the leg up and bringing them closer, the warm closeness making them both wild.

His tongue prodded mischievously through his leader's lips, sliding them across each other. The kiss was wet and messy and needy and they both liked it that way. It was moments like these they really, really and thoroughly broke rule number one.

Don't do anything stupid.

"About this," Cas moaned, his breath heavy, fingers gripping tight on the fabric of Dean's pants, while pulling the straps of the holster. "Sometimes I picture you … nnnnagh yes there, mmm," he mumbled, reactions fitting as Dean nudged his knee more against the other man's crotch. Dean bit Cas lip slightly, earning a throaty noise. Cas pulled away so he could finish his sentence, still breathing hard. His eyes were full blown, his voice getting darker.

"When we're sitting in the meetings and you're walking around showing off like you do," he said, gasping when Dean started biting lower on his neck. "And I see how the holster is pressing against your leg, _christ_ Dean..."

His other free hand wandered behind Dean's ass, grabbing a nice hunk and pulling, kneading.

"I imagine how you'd look with just that... Nothing else, but that damned strap clinging to your skin … Oh Dean, the things I imagine..."

Dean's breath hitched slightly, stopping moving for a moment. Cas stopped as well, sensing something was off. Dean raised his head slightly, looking Cas in the eye he said

"Want to see how it looks," voice gruff and growling.

Cas felt his heart skip a beat, and it was already going pretty fast and irregularly.

Ever since then, at nearly every meeting they had and Dean wore that fucking holster, Cas would just give him one look, one, and they had to meet up round the back in five minutes.

Sometimes Dean thought about why he even bothered with that idiotic rule, since everything he ever did, was stupid. Cas would laugh, pull him in tight and whisper "well, rules are there to be broken, right?"


End file.
